


Them and the nothing of distance

by oviparous



Series: I hope the sun and moon make friends [2]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, Correspondence, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Romance, Self-Discovery, Sexuality Crisis, Slice of Life, Team as Family, Yama Bromance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:11:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oviparous/pseuds/oviparous
Summary: [SEQUEL FIC] It's 1992 and our fab five are still playing tag with mail and calling each other's landlines—except now they're a little more grownup, figuring out how to be adults while still staying true to themselves. Aiba and Nino even have to deal with falling in love with each other! As they navigate the era's heteronormative climate (without the Internet), they discover the importance of friendship, the power of honesty, and true self-sacrifice.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I've gotten into the habit of re-visiting universes and doing What-if pieces for each of them. This story basically ignores the epilogue of 'I hope the sun and moon make friends', and explores the possibility of an Aiba/Nino relationship.

_February 1992_

** Aiba **

“Hello? May I speak to Ninomiya-kun, please?” Aiba played with cord of the telephone like it was a string on a bass just so his fingers had something to do; he was so excited, he couldn’t keep still.

“Hang on,” said the voice on the other end of the line; it was Nino’s sister.

Aiba shifted his weight from foot to foot as he waited for Nino to come to the phone, almost dancing as he felt the anticipation bubbling in his chest.

There was a crackle; the receiver was being picked up. “If you are Jun calling again to remind me to forward the mail,” Nino began, “I swear I’m gonna do it tomorrow—”

“Not Matsujun,” Aiba hurriedly cut in, “it’s me.”

“Aiba-shi!” Nino cheered. “Congratulations on the last day of school!”

Aiba grinned at Nino’s enthusiasm. “I have super good news…” Aiba trailed off meaningfully.

There was a pause.

“You got the job?” asked Nino, his tone deliberately even.

“YES I DID.”

“Congratulations!”

“I’M MOVING TO YOUR NEIGHBOURHOOD!”

“I know. Crap. Can’t Chiba raise their own aspiring electricians?”

Aiba cackled, hearing the grin in Nino’s jibe. “I’m going to be living on my own so you can come over and hang out anytime!”

“I have to study, you goon. Third year of high school, if you remember. It’s a crucial time.”

“Aw, don’t be such a Sho.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that!”

“He’ll take it as a compliment, you know.” Aiba rolled his eyes. “And, you can come study at my place. I’ll give you a spare key and everything. It’ll be just like Ikeda, minus the sucky goodbyes! The others will be so jealous.”

“God, just because we’re going to be neighbours doesn’t mean daily sleepovers. You’re going to be a working adult in two months, please try to live up to that.”

“Whatever.” Aiba laughed. “Welcome to Katsushika!”

“…That’s my line, you idiot.”

***

_May 1992_

** Nino **

Nino didn’t like to assert his school-leaver status in his interactions with Jun; Jun had had to start high school all over again, after all, and it just seemed cruel to moan about the new syllabus or the prep for university applications during their phone calls. This meant that conversations with Jun were reduced to topics like health and girls and siblings and parents, and while those were all right, Nino felt like they weren't connecting the way they used to anymore.

It was a pity, since he and Jun had always been ‘Team Baby’ within the Kanto subset of their group, which actually included Aiba—but Aiba had been far out in the Chiba countryside then, and he was a year older, so it wasn’t like they got to hang out with him or have the exact same conversation topics.

Now that Aiba was living a three-minute walk away, however, Nino found himself relating more to Aiba than ever before; it was practically science, since the five of them were pretty much destined to be best friends despite being scattered between East and West—any permutation of the group’s members spelt fusion on a more discrete level. 

Aiba had been through the rigours of academia and barely survived, choosing to escape university by joining the workforce. This meant he didn’t offer much empathy, but he definitely was the most sympathetic. Nino had been moaning to Aiba the whole of April about school, and Aiba, ever the optimist (and, Nino suspected, part-time saint) had always offered advice, comfort and a free meal.

“Too bad Jun has that acting workshop, huh,” said Aiba through a mouthful of crisps, reaching into the bag for another handful. “It’s Golden Week, you’d think he’d be free to hang out with us.”

“He’s super hard-working, you know that. And Gunma’s kinda far,” said Nino absently, poring over his chemistry homework at the low table that was in the middle of Aiba’s one-room apartment. The teachers at his school went trigger-happy with the holiday assignments; but it was his choice to pursue the academic track, he now had to live with it. He knew he didn’t have the extra-curricular activities to boost his college application; all he had left to bolster his charm was his intelligence, and the portfolio he had to start working on soon.

“Aiba-chan,” said Nino, turning to look at Aiba thoughtfully, “I was thinking of making a five-minute movie so I have something to show for my college application—I need another pair of hands, someone to hold lights and stuff like that; could you help?”

“Sure,” said Aiba between munches, “as long as it’s on days I don’t have to work overtime.”

“Cool.” Nino cracked a smile. “I want to cast Jun in this thing.”

“Ooh, he’d love that.”

“Yeah. He’d stress out, but he’d love it.”

“What kind of film are you going to make?”

“Horror,” said Nino immediately.

Aiba made a face. “You don’t even like horror movies.”

“That’s why it’s gonna be less frustrating to make.”

“I don’t get it.”

“If I like the genre, I’m going to have this ideal end-product in my mind, and I’d waste too much time trying to attain it,” Nino explained, “whereas for horror, I can just go on an experimental rampage and play everything by ear.”

“Ah.” Aiba nodded as he sucked on his consommé-dusted fingers. “But I’m not gonna watch it when it’s done; horror movies scare the shit out of me.”

“Maybe you’ll be less scared after being involved in the process of making one.”

Aiba’s scepticism was apparent. “We’ll see.”

***

_June 1992_

** Aiba **

The clock by his bed read _2:15_ , and still Aiba couldn’t sleep. Damn Nino and his stupid idea of watching _The Final Nightmare_ for ‘research’; now every time Aiba closed his eyes he saw the gleaming claws of Freddy Krueger.

Aiba wriggled to the edge of his mattress to peer down at Nino, who was sleeping over because Aiba was afraid to sleep alone. In the light of the streetlamp that filtered past the paltry weave of Aiba’s curtains, Nino seemed to be asleep, curled up with his face tucked under his wrist.

“Nino,” whispered Aiba, nudging Nino with his fingers. “Nino-chan.”

Nino grunted and turned his head, eyes still closed. “What.”

“I can’t sleep.”

Nino rolled onto his other side, facing Aiba. “And?”

Aiba considered this for a moment. “Come here and sleep with me.”

“ _No._ I’m already sleeping at your place tonight; I’m not sleeping in your bed.”

“Nino…” whined Aiba. “It’s your fault I can’t sleep; you _know_ I’m bad with these things, remember that time Oh-chan told us that puppet master story?”

“And I’ll tell you what I said back then: it’s just fiction.” Nino groaned. “Go to sleep.”

“I’ve _tried_. All the sheep I count turn into ugly killer men. Come on, Nino; I used to bunk in with my brother after a horror movie all the time, this isn’t any different.”

There was a beat of silence. “I don’t want to,” came Nino’s clipped reply.

Aiba made an irritated noise, clicking his tongue. “Fine. Just hold my hand until I fall asleep, then?” Aiba reached out to hook his fingers around Nino’s.

“What? That’s weirder,” Nino pulled his hand out of Aiba’s grip, “stop it.”

“Look,” Aiba’s frustration was building, “I have work tomorrow, and if I don’t get enough sleep I’ll make mistakes, and my senpai are really strict, so it’s really stressful not being able to sleep, okay?” A lump emerged in Aiba’s throat, catching him by surprise; this was affecting him more than he thought. He swallowed, hoping Nino hadn’t heard the lachrymosity in his voice.

Nino stayed quiet.

“Oh, whatever,” muttered Aiba, twisting himself so he faced the wall. If Nino wasn’t going to help him, so be it. He was going to tire out eventually; he just hoped it would be soon.

Then there was a slap on his rump, and a gruff utterance of ‘move’; Aiba happily scooted as Nino joined him on the bed, dumping his pillow unceremoniously beside Aiba’s before lying down in a manner that Aiba could only describe as begrudging.

Aiba rolled his head onto Nino’s pillow. “Thank you,” said Aiba, sincerely.

“Too close,” complained Nino, dragging his blanket over himself.

Aiba didn’t move away; instead, he nestled against Nino for comfort, draping an arm over Nino’s waist.

“Did you hug your brother to sleep back then?” asked Nino incredulously.

“Nope.”

“Then why are you hugging me?!”

“‘Cause you’re not my brother.” Aiba yawned. This was working.

Nino squirmed, but Nino was pretty small and spent most of his time at school; Aiba was something like a head taller and spent most of his time on a construction site bending conduit.

“Stop moving, Nino. You’re into this skinship thing, aren’t you? I see you doing it with Oh-chan all the time.”

Nino went very still; somewhere in Aiba’s sleep-addled mind, he found the capacity to realise he’d struck a raw nerve. 

“It’s late,” said Nino after a tense moment. “‘Night.”

And with that, Aiba forgot everything, and promptly dropped off to sleep.

***

_September 1992_

** Nino **

The summer passed in a flurry: there was filming with Jun and Aiba, the annual visit to Ikeda, bemoaning the heat, promises of sending post and making phone calls, studying, more studying, and spending a _lot_ of time at Aiba’s apartment.

Nino wasn’t sure how it had happened; after that night Aiba got spooked by the Freddy movie, Nino made it a point to check in on him every evening for a week, during which he was met with the request of a sleepover on most days (usually ones following a nightmare). Nino declined a couple of times—he was actually really busy—but he’d find himself eventually giving in, spending the night at Aiba’s after he completed the day’s revision goals. He kept to his space on the floor unless Aiba neighed for him to join him on the bed, and he usually did, complaining less each time.

And then it became a weekly thing.

Nino convinced himself it was cool, that it was what good friends did, that it was normal. He tried to ignore the guilt that nibbled at him every time he woke up in the morning, senses still sluggish from sleep, fighting both his hard-on and the urge to kiss Aiba awake.

So maybe it wasn’t cool. Aiba was his friend, not his… whatever. Besides, Nino told himself repeatedly, he liked girls, not boys. He totally liked girls. He had to, right? He wasn’t a weirdo. He felt like a boy, so he had to like girls.

Thoughts of kissing Aiba be damned.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote on the inside of the cover of Nino's scrapbook is the Kyou no Hitokoto from Arashi Discovery, March 19 2013.

_March 1993_

** Aiba **

The realisation that Nino was leaving hit Aiba on a night when Nino wasn’t around; it made Aiba jolt up in bed and long for him.

But Nino was in Ikeda, saying goodbye to his grandfather because he’d miss the annual summer meet-up, and then he’d be hanging out with Ohno and Sho in Kansai for a couple of days over spring break before coming back to Kanto where Jun and Aiba would get their turns to spend time with him; and then he’d leave for school, for Michigan.

Nino was going to be on the other side of the world, and Aiba didn’t like it.

The way Aiba was feeling reminded him of the times they’d wave to Ohno from the windows of their parents’ cars as they left him behind in Fukui. Except this feeling Aiba was having about Nino was far stronger than that particular brand of goodbye, and Aiba didn’t really know what to make of it…

…Perhaps it was because Nino was his best friend. His _bestest_. He loved Jun and Ohno and Sho to death, but over the past year or so he’d gotten really close to Nino. Not just emotionally, Aiba thought, since they’d become really comfortable touching each other. There was a lot of leaning, absent-minded hand-holding, and perpetual one-armed hugs. They’d shared woes of school and work, cried over the related frustrations; hugged each other to sleep, noses touching, for more nights than he could count; laughed over the numerous inside jokes that they only realised were inside jokes when they flew over Jun’s head. It made Aiba feel bad that Jun was being left out, especially since Jun was the one who was always coming all the way out to Tokyo to see them; but he was also happy, in a slightly perverse way: there was a part of Nino that was all his, close as they all might have been—a part that Aiba selfishly didn’t want to share with any of the others.

Aiba didn’t want Nino to go to America. He wanted Nino to stay, and not just stay—but by his side. Specifically.

***

  


** Nino **

“Ah, sorry—thank you very much,” travelled Ohno’s voice over the phone, and Nino frowned at Aiba in a bid for commiseration, making no sense of what Ohno had said.

“Why did you thank Nino for calling you a heartless cad?” Aiba asked loudly, putting his mouth right by the microphone.

“Maybe he finally mastered the art of sarcasm?” suggested Nino, adjusting the cordless against his ear as they conducted the four-way call.

“Ow, Aiba-chan,” said Sho, sounding miffed, “tone down. Even Brazil can hear you.”

“Oh-chan keeps asking me to speak louder, and you keep asking me to go soft—I don’t know what you guys want from me, seriously.”

“Satoshi-kun, there should be a volume button on that phone you’re on. Push it up to ‘High’.” A pause, no answer. “Satoshi-kun?” 

“Sho-kun,” said Ohno finally, “your mum just brought me another packet of juice, but if I drink anymore I’m going to pee on your bed.”

“MUM,” Sho shouted in his thick Kyoto accent, “he doesn’t want anymore juice!”

“Okay now I really have to pee—”

“Down the hallway, on the other side of the landing.”

There was a thump, and they knew Ohno had thrown down his phone.

Ohno was at Sho’s house that evening, for the sole purpose of calling Nino to say goodbye. Having Jun in the conversation would’ve been ideal, but it was Jun’s mother’s death anniversary and there were some rites being performed, some family reunion he had to attend. He couldn’t come down to Tokyo just for a personal conference call.

The call had been Sho’s idea—Ohno would go to his place and Aiba would go to Nino’s, since Sho and Nino still lived with their parents, and there were multiple handsets so all anyone had to do to join an ongoing call was to pick up a phone in another room. Ohno lived in Nara, not too far from Sho, and could totally spend the night and still be able to attend school the next day.

Nino and Aiba were in a slightly more advantageous situation; Nino’s family owned a cordless phone, so he could bring it into his room to physically be with Aiba as they chatted with the guys in Kyoto. Sho’s parents, on the other hand, only had regular telephones, and Sho was letting Ohno use the one in his room while he camped out in his dad’s study.

“Anyway, no apologies for being a ‘heartless cad’, Nino,” said Sho chidingly, “you know how much we want to see you before you go.”

“Apparently school and part-timing at the convenience store is more important than I am. It's okay, I understand— _ow!_ ” Nino yelped, as Aiba reached over and jabbed Nino viciously in the side.

“Don't worry, Sho-chan, I've taught him a lesson,” said Aiba smugly. “So rude to your elders,” continued Aiba, clicking his tongue and shaking his head at Nino.

“Hear that, Sho-chan? He just called - you - an - old - man—” Nino punctuated every syllable with a vengeful poke in Aiba's stomach.

“Not fair! You're on the cordless!” shouted Aiba, using his free hand and both his legs to fend Nino off. Sho was laughing his head off on the other end of the line.

“I’m back!” Ohno voice emerged through the cacophony.

“That was fast,” remarked Sho, still sounding wheezy from the laughing.

“Yeah, too much juice. It just shot out of me! I was a freaking jet.”

Nino shook his head, despairing as Aiba dissolved into a bout of wheezing laughter.

“Oh yeah—any of you going to call Jun tonight?” asked Sho, more serious now.

“He said he’ll call me,” said Nino helpfully.

“What time are you flying off again?” asked Ohno.

“Five-ish?” guessed Nino. “I know I have to leave my house around one in the afternoon.”

“His flight is five twenty,” supplied Sho. “Delta Airways.”

Aiba laughed. “Oh my god, Sho-chan. How about me? What time do I have to go to work tomorrow?”

“I know you get up on time to watch the end of ‘ZIPANGU’, so… eight?”

“Seven forty-five, but close enough,” said Nino drily, oddly proud that he knew this and Sho didn’t.

“I have to get up at six every morning to pee, even on weekends.”

“Thanks, Oh-chan. We totally had to know that.”

“You’re welcome, Nino.”

“Ooh, sarcasm!” Nino whistled. “I’m impressed!”

“Uh, what?” Ohno sounded truly clueless. Aiba lost it, tumbling onto Nino’s bed and laughing until he was out of breath.

“Okay you guys—it’s getting late, and we’ve been on the phone almost an hour. We’re like high school girls, good grief,” said Sho, laughing. “Have a safe trip, Nino. You’re all packed?”

“Yup. All set.”

“Oh! Aiba-kun, don’t forget to give Nino the thing,” reminded Ohno rather cryptically.

“Yup,” said Aiba quickly, shooting Nino a look that was part-guilty, part-pleased. “I have it with me.”

“Safe trip, Nino. Write to us, or we’ll miss you,” said Ohno, letting a whine creep into his voice.

“I will,” promised Nino. “I’ll call you!”

“Call me too, will you?” teased Sho.

“I’ll think about it,” Nino joked.

They all said their goodbyes, and immediately after they hung up, Nino cornered Aiba, grinning.

“What is it?” Nino demanded. “I can’t believe you guys planned something for me and I totally didn’t notice.”

Aiba laughed as he reached for the backpack that sat on Nino’s desk. He drew out something heavy-looking wrapped in crepe paper, its ends taped shut.

“Oh-chan made it for you,” Aiba explained as he handed Nino the package, “with our help.”

Nino took the gift. “Can I open it?”

Aiba grinned and nodded.

Nino sat on the bed and carefully peeled the tape back. Under the wrapping was a leather-bound book. Nino smoothed his hand over the surface, admiring the rich burgundy.

The spine creaked pleasantly as Nino opened the cover. On the inside was a beautiful cursive inscription, in both English and Japanese.

_Friendship doubles our joy and divides our grief._  
_友情は、喜びを二倍にし、悲しみを半分にする。_  
_\- Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller_

The pages were filled with hand-drawn pictures and photographs of them, mostly of their summers in Ikeda, though some were from the rare, precious occasions they’d met up in their spare time. Almost every photo had a caption—the humour reeked of Sho, clever with mischievous plays on words, though the handwriting was Ohno’s. There was even a piece of aluminium foil from their bus, and Aiba’s original copy of the 1989-1990 tag schedule—the very first cycle. Several of the book’s margins were furnished with anecdotes written on small craft cards (Jun spared no expense, they were good quality), printer paper (Sho, ever the minimalist when it came to arts and crafts), and origami paper (so that was why Nino had seen it lying around in Aiba's apartment). Ohno had written directly on the cardstock that made up the pages; Nino marvelled at his confidence—he hadn’t made any mistakes.

Nino blinked back tears as he saw the photos of the letters they had written for their game of tag; there were four, each one marking the years they had known each other, and there were some blank pages after that, presumably for the upcoming cycles. The letters for the 1992-1993 year were currently with Ohno; they were on the forwarding leg, and Ohno would be sending them to Nino’s address in the States.

Nino smiled as he realised something. The person who started the cycle got to keep the set for that year, and so far the completed sets were in the possession of Aiba, Sho and Nino.

“Did you ask my family to go through my things?” asked Nino as he pointed to the picture of the set of letters he was sure was lying in a box under his bed.

“Nope,” said Aiba royally, seating himself beside Nino, “I just explained the surprise, then asked your mother if I could enter your room.”

Nino punched Aiba on the arm. “Criminal.”

“Ow,” said Aiba, but he was laughing as he rubbed the sore spot.

“Thank you,” said Nino, his voice thicker than he expected. “For bringing all of us together.”

Aiba took one look at him before pulling him into a hug. Nino closed his eyes, pressing his cheek against the cotton of Aiba’s t-shirt, savouring the moment.

“You know what Sho-chan’s making for the rest of us?” asked Aiba, chuckling into Nino’s hair.

It felt like the right moment to wind his arms around Aiba, so Nino did. “What?”

“He’s sending us tapes of him saying stuff like ‘Hello, may I speak to Kazunari Ninomiya’—all in English of course, because the point of it is to play it into the phone if we’re not confident of speaking to your dorm operator. He typed up a guide with numbered bullet points and everything. There’s even a troubleshooting section, he says. It’s awesome. I’m gonna use it.”

“Do you have the tape now?”

“No, he’s still waiting for your accommodations to be finalised so he can record room numbers and all that.”

Nino laughed into Aiba’s collarbone. Trust Sho to be thorough.

“Nino.” Aiba pushed against Nino’s shoulders; Nino took the cue to draw back, missing Aiba’s heat almost instantly.

Something in Aiba’s countenance had shifted: there was a wilting sadness in his eyes, further pronounced in the corners of his mouth. Nino knew why, of course. It didn’t have to be said.

They’d gotten close, so close, over the past year. Too close, perhaps, but Nino didn’t want to think about that. Aiba embodied everything about friendship to Nino, and he loved Nino with a fierce innocence that no one could rival.

Nino wanted to treat this affection carefully. Respectfully. He didn’t want to wreck it by telling Aiba he sometimes had inappropriate thoughts about him, thoughts that invoked affection of a different type. Thoughts that were certainly not innocent.

Nino was about to suggest they call it a night when Aiba surged forward and kissed him firmly, right on the lips.

In a moment it was over, but it left Nino breathless. Aiba was breathing hard as well, his eyes fixed on Nino’s, and in them Nino read fright and apprehension and something else—something Nino _hoped_ was desire, but he couldn’t be sure.

He decided to find out.

Bracing a hand on the nape of Aiba’s neck, Nino led him into another kiss. Aiba’s eyelids fluttered shut; his lips were pliant, and every time they parted to capture Nino’s own was a blissful electrification of the senses.

Then it all went to shit as Aiba gasped and shot to his feet, shrinking away from Nino like Nino was… like there was something wrong with him.

“I’m sorry,” Aiba spluttered, drawing the back of his hand against his mouth. His hand was shaking. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

Nino froze on the bed, failing to understand how they'd descended from pure heaven into a perfect hell.

“I should go,” said Aiba, grabbing his backpack. “I-I’ll see you in the morning. Bye.”

Aiba fled, leaving Nino mired in hurt, confusion, and a fearsome, swallowing loss.

***

  


** Aiba **

When Aiba kissed Nino, he justified it with something that happened a long time ago, when all five of them had first gotten to know each other: Jun had been 14 years old, still pint-sized and wide-eyed, and he’d stayed with Aiba for a bit, choosing to spend as much time as he could with his new friends in Ikeda even after his father went home to Gunma. He’d confided in Aiba then, heaving noisy, ugly sobs, about how he felt horrible about being so sure that his mother was going to die; he thought he was lacking faith, and didn’t deserve anything good in his life.

Aiba didn’t know why he’d done it, but he’d kissed Jun on the cheek. It was the first time he’d kissed anyone that wasn’t his mother, and it was a loud, wet one that left him feeling quite embarrassed, but there were tears on Jun’s face anyway, so it wasn’t like Jun should’ve minded.

Jun didn’t; he managed a smile and thanked Aiba for being there for him.

It made Aiba understand that certain types of touch carried healing powers, and sometimes, when the situation called for it, it was okay to kiss even boys.

So he’d kissed Nino before, in the past year—on the temple, on the shoulder, and once, teasingly, on the nose. There’d been times Nino told him to get lost, albeit half-heartedly; other times Nino just took it as it came. Aiba had always told himself kissing Nino was the same as kissing Jun; or Ohno or Sho, if the occasion ever arose. He liked them so much, it was his way of telling them he cared for them. Deeply.

Tonight’s kiss wasn’t anything like that.

Aiba threw himself on his bed, fisted his hands and rapped his knuckles on his forehead, his face scrunching in remorse. He shouldn’t have kissed Nino. Not on the lips, at least. He didn’t know how that made it different, but it did. It made him _see_ things, made him realise that all the times he missed Nino at work, all the times he yearned for physical contact and reached out and got it, all the times he cried over how Nino was moving to a country far away—it wasn’t because Nino was important to him as a _friend_ , no; it was because he loved Nino in a way that wasn’t - that _didn’t_ make sense, because it was the way he’d always assumed he’d love a girl, when the right one came along.

Also, tonight, Nino had kissed him.

 _Nino_ kissed him. It had felt so good, and so right.

Except it felt wrong—not that it felt _wrong_ -wrong, it was more weird than wrong anyway—it just felt strange, like something was out of place, like it wasn’t the way things were supposed to go, it shouldn't have happened like that…

He hadn’t been ready.

So Aiba panicked and bolted, which, in hindsight, might have been a really stupid thing to do, but Aiba felt awful and guilty for starting the kissing in the first place—Nino was leaving the next day, he didn’t need _baggage_ like this, what the hell was Aiba thinking, he was such a fool, a complete fool.

He hadn’t known he wanted Nino to kiss him until Nino did, and then he just let himself go. He hadn’t stopped to think that maybe Nino didn’t really want to kiss him—that Nino had just been caught up in the moment, a moment orchestrated by the subliminal part of Aiba's thoughtless, foolish brain. No matter what, Aiba was responsible for everything that had happened, because he’d _freaking started it_.

And god, he hadn’t even gotten started on the weird, weird _weirdness_ of it all—Nino was a guy. Since when did Aiba start liking guys?

Since he’d started liking Nino, that’s when. And when was that again? Aiba thought hard, and recalled the night he couldn’t sleep because he missed Nino. Had that been it? _No,_ Aiba realised as he chased his memories. Sometime in the past year, the lines between liking Nino as a friend and liking him as a non-friend had become super blurry. And Aiba had either been too thick to notice it, or his head had somehow convinced his heart that it was all just platonic.

Aiba didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t ask anyone for advice; he didn’t know anyone that was a boy who liked boys.

Wow. This was so weird to think about. Hadn’t he been as enthusiastic as the others about girls? Together they’d gone to Ohno’s father’s convenience store, opened up a fashion magazine and, on the count of three, pointed to the model they thought was the cutest. Aiba had participated in that, and he’d truly thought the girls cute. It hadn’t been for show.

And yet he’d never thought about kissing any of them.

Then there was Nino. He honestly didn’t think Nino was interested in boys, because Nino definitely liked girls; the first time he met Nino, Nino was chatting up a girl. He was just good with them, like _really_ good; Aiba had heard him giving Jun advice about girls before. Nino was also quite popular at school, getting enough Valentine’s Day chocolate to share with Aiba. It didn’t occur to Aiba to complain; he loved chocolate.

But now, as he thought about all those girls showering Nino with candy, he felt jealous and mean. Suddenly he wanted Nino to be interested in boys—namely, a boy—and it sucked to think that Nino probably wasn’t.

Nino had kissed him. Sure, Aiba had started it, but god, why did Nino kiss him? Had he just suddenly forgotten Aiba was a boy? Had it been some kind of experiment, some fun thing to do?

Thinking about that didn’t make Aiba very happy.

Aiba sat up, grabbed his pillow, and started pummelling it. Damn the kiss, damn this stupid concept of romance, damn his impulsiveness. Aiba wondered how a mere kiss could turn his world upside down—one day he was oblivious to his attraction to Nino, and the next it awakened with a vengeance.

Aiba stopped abusing his pillow, panting as he fell on his haunches. He didn’t know how he was going to suffer through meeting Nino the next morning. They’d arranged to have coffee together at Nino’s house before Aiba went to work; he wondered if it was still on, now that he’d basically gone and screwed up their friendship.

No matter what, Aiba decided, he wanted Nino to continue being his friend. He’d apologise for his actions the next day, make sure he and Nino were good before Nino went to America. There was no way he was going to lose Nino because of this.

***

****  


** Nino **

A minute into the conversation Jun stopped and asked: “What’s wrong?”

Nino snapped to attention. “What?”

“You’re being very quiet tonight.”

Aiba had practically ran out of Nino’s room just half an hour before, and Nino was still reeling from the aftermath of the kiss. It didn’t help that here Jun was, being extra nice by calling him on his mother’s death anniversary just because Nino was leaving the country for a year and a half. Nino was being a horrible friend.

“I’m just a bit tired,” fibbed Nino, “it’s been a busy week.”

Jun made a sympathetic noise. “I can only imagine.”

Nino’s eyes fell on the leather-bound scrapbook lying on his bed. “Hey, Jun-kun. I got the present today. Thank you.”

“The book?” There was a smile in Jun’s voice.

“The book.” Nino nodded though Jun couldn’t see him.

“Sorry it’s so heavy. I told Ohno-san to use a lighter paper for the pages, but he said no. Something about ink bleeds and glue stains, I don’t know.”

Nino’s jaw went slack. “Wait, you mean he _bound_ the book? The cover and everything?”

“Yup. He and Sho-san did most of the work. Sho-san loved playing editor.” Jun chuckled, and when he spoke again his voice was soft. “Summer wouldn’t be the same without you, Nino.”

“Isn’t it strange? We spend most of our time apart from each other; it shouldn’t be too different whether I’m in Japan or America. I’m not sure I deserve to be spoilt this silly.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, the original gift idea wasn’t this elaborate. We wanted to get you something, sure, but we were thinking along the lines of filming equipment, clothes, you know—things that you’ll need. But Aiba-kun had this brainwave, and he convinced all of us that a scrapbook was the way to go. He really wanted to make it special for you. We totally understand, though—you guys are practically joined at the hip.” Jun laughed. “Anyway, I guess his enthusiasm rubbed off on the two _ojisan_ in Kansai. They really went all out to produce it.”

Nino sighed quietly. The gift had been conceived by Aiba. Aiba, who cared so much. Except now Nino wasn’t sure if Aiba cared; not after Nino had basically… sort of forced himself on him? Yikes.

“Hey, Nino? Sorry, but I really need to go. I’ve to set the timer for the rice cooker, make sure Ruka and Saeko have clean underwear, that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks for calling, yeah? Sorry we didn’t get to talk about your, well… I haven’t even asked how your dad is doing.”

“It’s okay,” Jun’s voice was firm, “really. And he’s doing great, does yoga in his spare time.”

Nino laughed. “That sounds awesome. Send him my regards.”

“I will.”

“And hey,” Nino had an idea, “let’s make a film again someday, okay?”

“I’m counting on you, Mr Director.”

“Same here, Mr Actor.” Nino paused. “I’ll call you, all right?”

“Yup. Bye, Nino. Say hi to Aiba-kun for me.”

Nino shoved the malaise down his throat and managed a smile. “Okay. Later, Jun-kun. ‘Night.”

As Nino hung up the phone, he thought of calling Aiba next, just to ask if they were okay. But he was terrified to, because what if they weren’t? Then what?

Nino closed his eyes, recalling the events of that night in order.

Aiba had kissed him.

He then kissed Aiba.

Aiba kissed back.

Aiba stopped kissing him.

Aiba apologised for kissing him.

Aiba ran away.

Nino wondered why Aiba had said sorry. Had he meant it? Or did he just say it to temper the situation, to pacify imminent distress? If Nino had to be really honest, he was gutted that Aiba had seemed revolted about the kiss, what with him wiping his mouth and fleeing the room. But he had kissed back, dammit. Aiba had kissed back, Nino was sure of it. So why? Why had he panicked? Why was this all so bloody confusing?

Nino stared at the phone. He couldn’t, Nino realised as his stomach clenched uncomfortably. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to Aiba right now. It was too weird.

One thing was finally clear, though: he was definitely in love with Aiba.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

***

****  


** Aiba **

At six-fifteen Aiba was roused by someone knocking on his door, and he grunted as he cracked an eyelid open, not wanting to get up.

Then the lock clicked, the door swung open, and in came Nino, keys jangling in his hand.

Aiba blinked, still groggy.

“Why did you knock?” was the first thing that tumbled out of Aiba’s mouth. Nino never knocked. Well, in the earliest days of Aiba’s move to the apartment Nino _had_ knocked, but after a while he just didn’t bother, and it was apparent that Aiba didn’t mind; the way he came in and out, it was pretty much his home as much as it was Aiba’s.

“Because you don’t have a doorbell,” answered Nino, matter-of-factly.

Aiba fell back onto his pillow, groaning. “Come back in thirty minutes, that’s when my alarm rings.”

It took several quiet moments before Aiba realised Nino wasn’t leaving. He lifted his head to see Nino, still in the entryway, looking pensive and unsure. 

Everything from the previous night resurfaced in Aiba’s mind with sickening clarity.

Aiba shot up, wide awake now. Nino jumped, startled by the sudden movement.

“About last night,” Aiba took a deep breath, “I’m really sorry.”

Nino frowned.

Aiba tried to decipher the frown. This was tough; Nino rarely frowned. Maybe he was deeply displeased. Or was he just baffled?

“Are you upset?” hazarded Aiba.

Nino stopped frowning. Aiba relaxed. Not-frowning was good.

“I don’t know.” Nino sighed. “I just…” Nino looked at Aiba, then _frowned again_.

It really wasn’t like him; Nino wasn’t the sort who would be at a loss for words. Aiba wasn’t the brightest, but he wasn’t dumb; he knew that Nino was bothered about them kissing, he knew this was all about that, but there were so many parts to it, and he didn’t know how to talk about them: the whys of the kiss, the regret of bad timing, the nature of their relationship and how it had changed ever since they’d gotten this close, whether or not they were headed for even more change. 

All of these things, Aiba wasn’t confident of articulating eloquently at six in the morning. So he did what occurred to him first.

“Come here.” Aiba patted the space beside him on the mattress, drawing his feet back and reclining so he was lying down on the bed again.

Nino was staring at him unblinkingly.

“Nino?” Aiba waved.

Nino snapped back. He toed off his shoes and treaded across the room to Aiba’s bed. His gaze shifted to the spot in the bed he was supposed to fill, and he licked his lips.

Aiba knew what Nino licking his lips meant. Of course, he mostly did it because his lips were dry, but it also meant unease and anxiety, though sometimes tinged with a bit of hope. Aiba knew, because it was a thing Nino always did when playing the boss in his video games.

Aiba reached out and held Nino’s hand, but didn’t tug on it. He turned his eyes up at Nino imploringly.

There was a pause before Nino dropped onto the bed, knees first; as he moved closer, Aiba was struck with the want to kiss Nino again.

 _Stupid, that’d make things weirder,_ he scolded himself. To further discourage the notion, he reminded himself of his morning breath. Not that Nino didn’t already know how gross it was; they’d woken up with their face inches away from each other on dozens of mornings. Except they’d never kissed. Aiba’s mind wandered to the thought of whether he would be willing to kiss Nino upon waking up.

He totally would.

Before either of them could say anything, Aiba threw his arms around Nino and hugged him as tightly as he could.

“You’re leaving today, and I’ve made things weird. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done it, will you forgive me?” blurted Aiba.

Nino seemed to have stopped breathing. Aiba thought this was odd, so he drew back to look at Nino.

He was horrified to see how red Nino's eyes were getting, and how he was biting down on his lip to stop from crying.

“What’s wrong?” Aiba was engulfed by a searing panic.

“Nothing,” said Nino, his voice breaking. He pressed the pads of his fingers against his eyes before using the heel of his palm to stop his nose from leaking. “I’m fine.”

Aiba scrambled for some tissues and shoved them into Nino’s hand. “You’re not fine, Nino. Tell me what’s wrong?”

Nino shook his head, not wanting to say.

They didn’t talk; Nino continued crying for a long time. All Aiba could do was to put a hand on Nino’s head, ruffle his hair, and hope things were going to be okay.

***

  


** Nino **

“You’re leaving today, and I’ve made things weird. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done it, will you forgive me?” said Aiba, making Nino freeze as the words cut into him.

Nino wanted to scream at Aiba: there was nothing to forgive, he shouldn’t feel sorry for kissing him, it wasn’t a bad thing, _stop freaking saying sorry._

But Nino wasn’t like that, not with Aiba, not with these matters. Nino was secretly sensitive, and ridiculously furtive with showing his feelings about certain things; he just couldn’t bring himself to tell Aiba that he was being a jerk, especially because he knew Aiba hadn’t meant to be.

So Nino cried; it was stupid and embarrassing and futile, but it was how his body was responding to the way his brain was trying to handle the situation, and after a sleepless night thinking about whether or not he should go to Aiba’s in the morning and finally deciding that he had to, Nino couldn’t find the energy to fight the tears.

“What’s wrong?” Aiba finally cottoned on to Nino’s misery, taking him by the shoulders, looking painfully clueless.

He’d planned to hash things out with Aiba, to talk about things like how the more grownup members of their clique would, but Aiba had somehow coaxed him into bed and hugged him and then gutted him with yet another apology.

Nino didn’t know which was worse: how Aiba was basically undermining the significance of their kiss, or that he was failing to read the situation.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Nino managed to get out, before the tears took over.

If this was how Aiba felt, then Nino didn’t need to be honest with him. He would deal with this by himself, sort things out without Aiba having to know how hurt he was, because he knew Aiba—Aiba would feel terrible and get really affected by the whole thing, like the time Sho was in juvie and Aiba had just worried for forever. Aiba was beautiful that way, and Nino loved that about him. It also made it really difficult for Nino to call Aiba out on the serious stuff. It was one thing to complain about how Aiba constantly hollered for Nino to fetch a towel because he forgot to bring one to the bathroom, and another to tell Aiba that apologising for kissing Nino meant he was technically treating the whole thing as a joke, which Nino knew wasn’t true. What they shared had been real, and whether it was right or wrong wasn’t up to Aiba to decide.

So Nino would make this his screw-up. It was okay; he was tough. He could handle it.

A fresh wave of tears hit him as another shard of reality pierced his consciousness—he had to say goodbye to Aiba. Nino knew he would miss him, but he hadn’t fathomed exactly how much. And the regret, god—why did all of this had to happen now? Finally accepting that he liked boys, that he was in love with his best friend, being told repeatedly by said best friend that kissing him was a mistake, and not having the time or maturity to handle it all.

Aiba was threading his fingers through his hair; Nino knew it was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it was making him feel worse. What he really wanted was for Aiba to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him to stay—but Aiba remained on his side of the bed, prudently silent.

But it was okay, Nino told himself as he fisted the tissues Aiba had put into his hand, because unlike Aiba, he was tough.

He could handle it.


	3. Part Three

_April 1993_

** Jun **

Sometimes Jun wondered about Nino and Aiba in a way that made him blush.

He’d first noticed it during his sojourn at Aiba’s the previous year, when he’d stayed with Nino that one week in summer so he could help out with his horror film. It’d been a lot like that scene in _Beauty and the Beast_ , except set in a totally different season and involved zero singing—the scene where ‘there was something that wasn’t there before’. (It was his kid sister’s fault this was the first example that came to mind, she kept making them watch it during her turn to pick on movie night.) Not that he was calling either of his friends a beauty or a beast (though if he really had to pick, it was obvious who was which).

Jun realised, in great amusement, that he was totally being the household staff, looking on as Belle and the Beast fell in love.

Except Jun wasn’t sure it was okay to call what Aiba and Nino had ‘romance’. They didn’t seem to be a couple, and frankly it had been fascinating to watch. It was almost as if they were so used to being together that they passed whatever stage was necessary to make lovers out of friends, and Jun knew he felt this way because he knew them so well.

Nino had always been a bit of an oddball; enigmatic, scathingly humorous, and incredibly hard to read at times. Which was why Jun had noticed that the one thing Nino had been plain about was his affection for Ohno.

Jun remembered the way Nino behaved around Ohno, sometimes even making loaded comments about Ohno’s sexuality that seemed to hint at his own—in fact, Nino had made such a statement the very first time they’d all hung out together. They’d been in Ohno’s room playing Nintendo, and Nino had told Ohno to ‘stop flirting’ with Aiba.

Ohno’s response was: “Uh, he’s not a girl.”

The emotions that had flickered on Nino’s face after—Jun found it hard to forget, because it had gone from laden with disappointment to neutral to maddeningly cavalier in the span of a single second, and Jun was sure he’d been the only one to pick it up.

Fast forward to four years later, and Jun found himself identifying an oddly familiar brand of interaction that still stemmed from Nino, except now it involved Aiba. And Aiba was responding to Nino in a way Ohno never did.

Jun knew some things were only privy to a keen observer: how Aiba touched the small of Nino’s back when asking about dinner; how Nino was much kinder to him in general; the way they looked at each other when they made a joke only they could understand; the way they quietly let go of each other’s hands when they remembered Jun was also in the room…

Jun had known Nino and Aiba before they became like this. It was obvious something had changed between the two.

It was also a cause for worry, because now that Nino was living on the other side of the Pacific, Jun was pretty sure there was a huge Nino-shaped hole in Aiba’s life. Jun couldn’t fill it, but he knew he could at least be there for Aiba, and make sure the hole didn’t swallow him up.

“Whoa,” said Jun after Aiba opened the door to him, “what happened?”

He was making an impromptu visit at Aiba’s; it was spring break, and he was in town to attend a two-day theatre master class for youths, having been recommended by his teacher.

“Huh?” Aiba gave him a blank look.

“You look drained,” Jun pointed out as he stepped out of the entryway and into the home.

“Oh,” Aiba looked sheepish, “um, lots of overtime lately.”

Jun raised his eyebrows. “Really? Nothing to do with Nino not living down the street anymore?”

Jun kind of regretted being that frank as Aiba’s face pinched shut. It was obviously hard for him being apart from Nino; Jun got that. He knew what it was like to miss a person so much it hurt.

Wordlessly, Aiba led him into the apartment. He put the kettle on; for tea, Jun assumed, or maybe Aiba just needed something to do to stop Jun from prying.

“Ohno-kun said he sent the mail to Nino today,” said Jun, changing the topic, though not straying very far. “Do you think it’d get to the States by the end of this month?”

Aiba threw a glance at Jun. “No idea. It’s still the beginning of April; should be safe, right?”

“I hope.” Jun cocked his head, remembering something. “You haven’t gotten the forwarded set, have you?”

“Nope.” Aiba kept his gaze diligently on the kettle. “I’m after Nino.”

“How did it work, when the letters made the first round? Did Nino just walk over here and put it in your mailbox?”

Aiba turned to Jun, finally giving him the first genuine smile of the evening. “He didn’t. I thought he would; you know how cheap he is. Instead, he said something about how our correspondence was worth the sixty-two yen.”

Jun laughed. “So little, but in fact so much.”

“Exactly.”

Jun took in Aiba’s expression, and all its fondness. “You must miss him.”

Aiba’s eyes grew sad, and Jun had an inkling this wasn’t just about separation.

The kettle whistled; Aiba switched the stove off, but didn’t proceed to make Jun a drink. Instead, he went over to where Jun was sitting at the low table, and took a seat opposite him.

“Matsujun, could I talk to you about something private?” Aiba inhaled deeply, looking as grave as Jun had ever seen him.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I miss Nino,” Aiba started slowly, “but in a way I’m not supposed to.”

Jun was puzzled. “Okay…”

“I kissed him, Matsujun.”

Jun blinked. He knew Aiba kissed people to make them feel better; he’d kissed Jun on the cheek once, and it’d been sweet in that moment, but definitely awkward given any other situation.

“I kissed him… on the mouth,” Aiba went on, shifting his eyes away from Jun’s, “and then he kissed me, and I kissed back, and then things got weird. I don’t know what to say to him.”

Jun held his breath. Could he have been right about them after all?

“It was—I don’t know, it made me realise that maybe I like him in a way guys shouldn’t be liking each other?”

Jun held up a hand. “Stop right there. How exactly do you think guys ‘should’ be liking each other?”

Aiba shrugged. “I don’t know—like brothers?”

“Aiba-kun, you do know gay people exist, right?”

“I do, but… they’re different, right? I mean, they don’t _just_ like Nino.”

Jun was starting to get an idea of why Aiba was so confused. “So Nino’s the only person you’ve liked so far that’s a guy—is that what you’re saying?”

“…I guess.”

“You _guess_?”

“I’ve never really liked someone like this before. It’s different.” Aiba’s voice fell. “It hurts.”

Jun’s chest tightened as he realised how lonely Aiba had been the past couple of weeks. “Does Nino know?”

Aiba shook his head. “I haven’t talked to him since the day he left. It got weird after the kiss, remember?”

With all that Aiba was telling him, Jun figured it was okay to ask. “Weird how?”

It was as if a dam had broken; Aiba started pouring his heart out. Jun mentally took notes as he listened to how Nino had visited Aiba the morning after the kiss, how Nino had cried for the better part of an hour, how Aiba had given him a hug goodbye at his front door, how quiet Nino had been through it all, how he’d only nodded when Aiba asked if they were still friends.

“Did you say anything?” asked Jun, as Aiba finished his frustrating tale. “To assure him everything’s okay and all that?”

“I said sorry.” Aiba looked helpless. “I said sorry a lot.”

Something didn’t sit right with Jun. “Why ‘sorry’? Why not, like, ‘I miss you, don’t go’?”

Aiba was looking appalled. “How could I say that? You know he’s got filmmaker dreams; he’s worked so hard for this.”

“Aiba-kun, it’s not like he’d actually stay for you if you asked him not to go. It’s like,” Jun grappled for the right words, “it was probably something he wanted to hear, and it was important that you were the one to say it.”

“But why should I say something like that if I knew he wasn’t going to stay? It sounds really insincere.”

“No; if he likes you back—don’t argue with me yet, let’s just assume he does—he would have wanted to make sure that you knew he _wanted_ to stay. ”

Aiba took some time to string the parts of the sentence together. “Oh.” Aiba blinked. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“And me saying sorry—” Aiba went visibly pale, “—it probably sounded to him like I was regretting everything, huh?”

Jun gave Aiba a weak smile. “You think?”

“Oh, _crap_. What should I do now?”

“I think for starters you could spend some money on an international calling card.”

“Okay. Should I apologise?” Aiba rubbed his temples vigorously, as if the motion was helping him think. “Or has he had enough of that?”

Jun hummed. “I think you just need to be really clear about what you’re apologising _for_.”

“I’m sorry for not waiting until I was ready before I kissed him,” Aiba immediately said. “And I shouldn’t have run away.”

“Doesn’t sound half bad,” said Jun agreeably, nodding.

Very slowly, Aiba got up, rounded the table and crouched beside Jun. He peered at Jun worryingly.

“I think Nino likes girls, though.”

Jun studied Aiba for a moment. “Even if he does, it doesn’t mean he won’t like you back. Some people think of sexuality as a spectrum. You know—not just only liking boys, or only liking girls. Maybe Nino’s like that. He _did_ kiss you, didn’t he?”

“How do you know these things?” Aiba frowned at Jun. “Do you like boys, too?”

“Nope, just raised in a very liberal home by an anthropologist and a doctor.”

“You sure?”

“That I was raised by my parents?” Jun grinned.

Aiba rolled his eyes. “I mean, are you sure you don’t like boys?”

“I’m sure.”

“How sure?”

Jun gave an exasperated sigh. “Question: do you own any magazines with naked women in them?”

“Those kinds you can’t buy until you’re eighteen?” Aiba made a face. “My brother does; not me. He went through a stage of rebellion, you know. I didn’t. I’m the trophy son.”

“Aiba-chan,” said Jun, extra-patiently, “I’ve owned magazines of naked women since I was in junior high. Some videos, too.”

Aiba stilled.

“But you’re a _good_ boy!” he exploded seconds after. “I _know_ you are!”

“Yes,” Jun laughed, “but I also really like thinking about having sex with girls.”

“Oh my god, why are you telling me this?”

“You asked!”

“I didn’t ask you about what - what you - oh, never mind!” Aiba stood up and stomped towards the stove. “You’re disgusting. I’m making you tea.”

Jun collapsed on the table in a fit of mirth. At 19-going-on-20, Aiba was refreshingly innocent as an adult; a part of Jun wished Aiba would never change, but for Nino’s sake, he probably should.

***

** Ohno **

Ohno had sent Nino his timetable along with the letters; he’d made sure to pick the expedited service at the post office, and had been surprised to find out there was such a thing as insurance for overseas mail. He was asked to fill in the value of the packet, but the letters weren’t something you could put a price tag on, so Ohno just wrote the first number that came to mind: _3104_ , a sort-of mnemonic for his name.

“Hello, Oh-chan. Is that all this sacred game is worth to you? Three thousand, one hundred and four yen?” demanded Nino over the phone that morning.

“Nino!” Ohno exclaimed, grinning. “My dorm receptionist said my dad was calling.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to see if I could get away with it.”

Ohno laughed. It was a very Nino thing to do.

“Hey, I never really got a chance to thank you before I left—Jun-kun told me you made my gift from scratch? Thank you.”

“Aw, it was nothing. I had Sho-chan’s help most of the way.” Ohno smiled. “It’s been, what, almost two weeks? How are you doing?”

“Getting excellent at English,” said Nino, and Ohno heard the ruffling of papers. “I’m looking at your timetable right now; you have a class in thirty minutes and another before lunch. Maybe I could call you during lunch? I’m bored of studying.”

“Wouldn’t it be like one in the morning for you then?”

“I sleep late.”

“There’s this theory that when you’re awake your brain fills up with junk, and if you don’t sleep to clear the junk you’ll just have, like, rubbish for brains.”

Nino was quiet for a moment.

“Aiba-kun told you that, didn’t he?” asked Nino.

“Oh, right,” Ohno remembered where he’d heard the anecdote, “that’s where I got it from!”

“Have you spoken to him lately?”

“Yeah, just a couple of days ago.”

“How is he?”

“Busy at work, doing a lot of wiring and installing, the usual.” Ohno thought it strange that Nino was asking. “Haven’t you talked to him?”

There was a noncommittal grunt; Ohno expected Nino to follow it up with something, but he didn’t.

“Nino? Something wrong?”

Over the line came a loud sigh, and Ohno imagined Nino running his palm over his face, thinking over what he wanted to say.

“Do you know you were the first guy I liked?”

Ohno felt his heart stop. He knew Nino well enough to understand the word choice; his meaning was obvious.

“Huh?” was all Ohno managed to wrench out of his throat.

“When I was six, Oh-chan. We played together every day, and I must have had a huge crush on you, because I never forgot you. I harboured that crush for the longest time, and when we met again four years ago I was so happy to see you again because you meant so much to me, you know?”

“Uh, Nino… What are you - what are you trying to tell me?”

“I’m trying to tell you that I like boys.”

Ohno gripped the cord of the phone. “You know I don’t, right?”

“I know perfectly well you don’t,” said Nino, and Ohno was relieved to find that his tone was reassuring. “I just need to tell someone, get it off my chest. It was something I’d been struggling with for a long time, and when I tried tracing it to when it first started, I realised my earliest memory of being attracted to a boy was when I met you.”

“Okay.” Ohno frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to say in a situation like this.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Hesitation coloured Nino’s voice. “Can I tell you something else?”

Ohno waited.

“I haven’t talked to Aiba-chan because things are a bit weird with us right now.”

Ohno’s heart sank. They must’ve had a fight. He’d had a fight with his roommate once, and they hadn’t spoken for a whole month. It was hard to live in such close quarters with a person who wasn’t family, though Ohno had always thought Nino and Aiba had the better deal because they had actually _chosen_ to be roommates, and to top things off they weren't even technically roommates, since Nino slept over only when he wanted to. Perhaps Nino had told Aiba he liked boys, and Aiba didn’t like the idea of being so close to Nino. It didn’t sound like Aiba, but Ohno seriously had no clue how Aiba felt about people who liked people of the same gender.

“I understand. Sometimes there can be friction between people who share the same living spaces. Familiarity breeds contempt and all. It happens.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Nino.

“Remember the time my roommate kept denying he was eating my yoghurt until I caught him doing it?”

Nino broke into giggles. “Oh, god, you’re hilarious.” Nino caught his breath. “Oh-chan, listen—Aiba-kun and I kissed.” 

“Huh?”

“We kissed,” Nino repeated.

“You kissed to make up? Like the Dachou Club gag?”

“No!” Nino laughed again. “Oh-chan, I just told you I like boys. Make the connection.”

Ohno switched his voice into a whisper. “You and Aiba-chan kissed like - like a couple?”

“Sort of. He kissed me, then I kissed him, then things just became awkward. He kept saying sorry. I think he’s really confused right now, and finding it hard to talk to me. I don’t know how to talk to him either. I have all these stupid feelings to deal with myself.”

Ohno was speechless for a moment.

“ _Seriously?_ ” Ohno turned suspicious. “Is this a prank?”

“Oh-chan, I swear I’m not making this up.”

“Okay,” said Ohno, steadying himself with a huge intake of air, “do you want me to talk to him about it?”

“No,” said Nino immediately. “I don’t want him to think I’m telling all of you about our personal issues.”

“Okay.”

“Just you.”

“Okay.”

“…Not that Sho-chan and Matsujun are judgmental or anything; they just think a lot about things and would either do a lot of research on homosexuality or burden themselves with trying to give advice, and you don’t do that.”

“Hey, I do try to put myself in people’s shoes!”

“I know, but you do it quietly. I kind of need that right now.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ohno looked at the clock, and knew he needed to go. Plus, this call had to be expensive for Nino. “For what it’s worth, Nino, I really think you guys should talk. You and Aiba-chan—you’re in university, he’s already been working for a year; you guys aren’t kids anymore. I know it’s different, but when Okada ate my yoghurt—”

“Right, I’m hanging up now,” sang Nino.

“—I’m just trying to say that you guys have to communicate to sort things out,” said Ohno hurriedly, raising his voice. “Nino?”

Ohno heard laughter from the other end of the line before it went dead. He sighed and hung up the phone.

Then he laughed.

Nino would be fine, because he was still the Nino they knew.

***

** Aiba **

Carefully he punched in the numbers for the calling code, then the country code, then Nino’s number. He didn’t have Sho’s tape yet, and prayed that he didn’t have to talk to the dorm operator or anything of that sort—he’d met Nino’s parents at the supermarket the previous evening and they told him they’d paid for a direct line, it should be possible to contact Nino without getting the call transferred.

The line connected; Aiba waited for Nino to pick up.

It was seven in the morning where Nino was, and Aiba hoped he was awake. Ohno had mentioned he'd talked to Nino before at this time and he’d been free—

“Hello?” Nino’s familiar tenor travelled over the wire.

Aiba squeaked. That was fast. God, it was so good to hear his voice, but it hurt at the same time, knowing he was so incredibly far away.

“Hello?” repeated Nino, in English this time.

“Um, hi. It’s me, Aiba.”

A beat. “You took long enough to call, idiot.” Nino sounded teasing and jovial, but Aiba knew he was trying really hard to keep things normal. “You’re the last one to contact me since I came here. I’ve talked to all the others over the past couple of weeks. Sho-chan even called twice.”

“Sorry,” said Aiba automatically, before he stalled. ‘Sorry’ was now a rather sensitive word between him and Nino.

As he’d expected, Nino picked up on it. “Don’t say sorry for everything,” said Nino, his voice markedly softer. Aiba wasn’t sure if he should've read it as hurt.

Aiba steeled his resolve to make things right with Nino with this call. “Listen—I’m really sorry for what happened that night.”

“God. It’s like I’m not speaking Japanese.” Nino sounded cross now.

“No, I’m not apologising for the kiss. I’m apologising for being a jerk.”

Aiba could hear Nino draw a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry it took me this long, but I needed time to process it all,” Aiba went on. “I had to look back on my actions, that sort of thing, you know?”

“Uh-huh…”

Aiba could feel the heat rise in his chest; it then flared up on his face with an intensity he’d never known. 

“Nino… I’m just going to be really upfront with you, okay? Go straight to the point and all.”

“Yeah, I get it. They’re expensive, these international calls.”

“ _Nino._ It’s not because of that. I’m being serious here.”

“So am I!” Nino retorted, a laugh in his voice.

Aiba rolled his eyes, but he was thankful that Nino was trying to lighten the mood.

“That day, in your room—did you kiss me because you wanted to, or did you just do it because I kissed you and you felt like you had to?” Aiba fought embarrassment as he forced the words out.

“I wanted to,” Nino’s reply was instantaneous, “I super wanted to.” Nino made a funny, exasperated noise. “Oh god, Aiba-chan—I hadn’t realised… I kept thinking about myself, it didn’t occur to me that you might take it that way. I’m sorry.”

Aiba’s heart soared, but the heat in his face remained. “No, it’s okay, that’s one question answered.” Aiba sat himself down in a chair, trying to calm himself down. “Right. You have to know why I freaked out after you kissed me.”

“I’m listening.”

Aiba nodded. “You know how I’ve kissed you before—on your forehead and your cheek and all that? I thought it was going to be the same no matter where I kissed you, until that night.” Aiba fingered the phone cord nervously. “I don’t know what made me kiss you on the mouth, but I just felt really, really sad that you were leaving, and I didn’t want you to go, and there was just this _need_ to kiss you, so I did. It just made sense, it felt so natural, to kiss your lips.”

Nino didn’t say anything, but Aiba could hear his breathing, so he knew he was still there.

“After I kissed you, I was so afraid you would hate me for it, but then you… You kissed me, and it wasn’t like the kiss I gave you. It was the kind of kiss I never knew I wanted,” Aiba hid his face in his palm even though nobody was watching, “and god—the _way_ I wanted it, it was like my brain was empty and there was nothing else important but kissing you. It was like discovering something that I didn’t know I always had, and it took me by surprise; and because surprise can sometimes seem a lot like fright, I couldn’t deal with it. I was kissing a boy. I was kissing _you_. You turned my world upside down.”

“Fine, I’ll take the credit,” said Nino airily.

Aiba couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve never liked anyone like this before, Nino; I always thought it was because I was a late bloomer. I had no idea it meant I wasn’t into girls. Not that I’d ever been into boys…”

Nino prompted: “Until?”, and Aiba found his face in flames again.

“I’m not going to finish that.”

“I thought you said you were going to be upfront!” Nino half-yelled.

Aiba clamped down on a giggle. “What I’m trying to say, Nino, is that I'm sorry for jumping the gun. I should have waited until I knew I wanted to kiss you before kissing you; if I’d waited, I wouldn’t have panicked and ran out of your room like that.”

“Um, no,” objected Nino, “I don’t think you should have waited. It sucked that you freaked out, yes, but you made the right move by acting on your impulses. God knows when you’d have discovered you like boys.”

“ _One_ boy,” Aiba quickly corrected. “I only like one boy.”

Aiba realised only belatedly that he’d helped Nino set up a trap; Nino took a moment before saying: 

“And which boy might that be?”

Aiba pitched his face into the crook of his elbow, forgetting he was holding onto the handset—the cord tugged on the cradle, and he sent the phone clattering onto the floor.

“Shit,” Aiba scrambled to pick up the phone before holding the receiver up to his ear, “I dropped the phone, sorry—hello?”

“You’re impossible,” said Nino, cackling as something that sounded a lot like a school bell rang on his side. “Woops, I have to go.”

“Oh. Okay.” Aiba suddenly felt lost; was this how the conversation was supposed to end?

“I’ll write you soon; I got tagged by Oh-chan yesterday. Oh, and I finally read your letter to Sho-chan. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

Aiba scrunched up his face to remember. “Ah, the one I let him use for editing practice?”

“‘Find the five errors I made and edit them newspaper style!’” Nino started chortling again. “Guess what—there weren’t five.”

“Oh, crap.”

It felt right, laughing with Nino like this, finally, after the long bout of silence. He missed Nino so, so much.

“I love you, I think,” said Nino breathlessly, in between laughs.

“What?” Aiba decided to pay Nino back in his own coin, trying hard not to snigger. "Sorry, I missed that."

Nino took him by surprise when he said, bold as brass: “I love you, you idiot, and I know you totally heard that.”

Aiba felt a warm, fuzzy feeling flood his entire being, right down to the tips of his toes. He grinned.

“All right, go to school, bye,” said Aiba in a sing-song voice, placing his hand on the hook-switch.

“Hey!”

“Love you,” Aiba said, laughing, before pressing the switch to disconnect. He put the handset back into the cradle and checked the phone, making sure the earlier fall hadn’t damaged it. As he set it back down on the desk, he realised he hadn’t stopped smiling.

They were all right.

They were more than all right.


	4. Part Four

_April 10, 1993_  
12:05 PM  
At the post office

_Hey, you._

_This is a lot cheaper than calling you, but it’s still expensive. Don’t expect me to send you expedited mail all the time; this is the exception because you’re next in the game and this letter is just taking a lift from the ones in the tag. PLEASE FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE DON’T SEND THIS OUT WITH THE TAG MAIL, OKAY? THIS IS, FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES, A LOVE LETTER. YOU DON’T WANT THE OTHER GUYS TO SEE THIS._

_My god. ‘Love letter’. How hair-raising a name for correspondence._

_So we had a test today—aced it—and by the looks of it I should be able to get a high enough score for the TOEFL (the test you have to take to prove how good your English is) and send out my application in time. Wish me luck! I don’t want to take the university’s academic English programme. I just want to start classes._

_Yesterday my sister called. My sister. My sister never calls. So she was like, “I saw Aiba-kun today on the way home, and I had a chat with him. He was nice.”_

_WHAT IS GOING ON? I feel like she’s trying to infiltrate our circle._

_Oh, and I miss you._

_Kazu_

***

_April 14, 1993_  
7:22 PM  
At the convenience store

_Hey, you!_

_Expedited mail is great!!! But I have no money for it, so I decided to bring a letter pad to the convenience store, write this letter, buy the stamps, and post it out AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, because you deserve the quickest response. ♥_

_And please, I’m scatter-brained, but I’m not dumb. Personal letters go into box. Tag letters go into drawer. I HAVE A SYSTEM._

_The new fiscal year has started, which means we have some new people at work. I’m a senpai now. It’s strange to have someone to boss around. There’s this guy on my team, Kazama. He’s really nice. ‘Yes, Aiba-senpai. I’ll do that.’ He says it a bit begrudgingly sometimes, but it’s obvious he’s pretending to. It’s funny!_

_Oh-chan called me today. I told him I called you, and he seemed INSANELY happy about it. Do you want to explain?_

_AND YOUR SISTER. She asked me about our plans for the summer, ‘our’ being mine and Matsujun’s and Sho-chan’s and Oh-chan’s. I said I wasn’t sure, but we definitely don’t intend to stop going to Ikeda even though you’re not going this year. She said she was planning on going too._

_OH MY GOD SHE’S TRYING TO INFILTRATE OUR CIRCLE._

_Do you think she knows about us? Is she your parents’ spy?_

_Aiba Masaki_

_PS. I miss you too!  
PPS. Good luck for your exam! Here’s an amulet I got at the jinja for you._

***

_April 27, 1993_  
11:18 AM  
In the common room

_You’re awful, how could you put ‘I miss you too’ in the POSTSCRIPT?! And the SACRILEGE! Mentioning blessings from a spiritual source as an afterthought!_

_Thank you._

_♥ ._

_Kazama sounds lovely. (If he touches you, I will kill him.)_

_Took the TOEFL; now it’s time to wait. If all goes well, I’ll move out of this dorm to the one on whatever campus of whatever university I’ll be enrolled at by… September, I think? It’s so weird to have school start in the fall._

_Before we talk about Oh-chan—I received a letter from Jun-kun, a long-ass one (I’m talking 12 pages) about how we’re always going to be friends no matter what, how loved I am, how I don’t have to be afraid to live my life in whatever way I want to…_

_You told him, didn’t you?_

_Does this mean Sho-chan’s the only one who doesn’t know?_

_(Yes, I did tell Oh-chan. I tell him a lot of things. He’s a great listener. Except he talks too much about Okada the Yoghurt-loving Roommate. Every life lesson he’s accumulated is linked to him. Please help create some conflict in Oh-chan’s life so he can talk about someone else?)_

_Re: sister. Weird. Very weird. I don’t think it’s about us; she can’t possibly know about you and me. Why is she snooping around our people?_

_Talking about ‘us’. Is there an ‘us’? Are we together now? We kind of live really far apart, and you have people you might meet (like that Kazama)… I mean, I’ll have people I might meet, too, but I doubt there’s going to be someone who likes me as much as you do._

_Kazu_

***

_May 8, 1993_  
9:09 PM  
At home

_You made me cry a little. Argh. You’re always surprising me with how frank you are in these letters. ♥_

_To be fair, I think Oh-chan, Sho-chan and Matsujun like you as much as I do. It’s just that I like you in another way as well, but I think intensity-wise we’re the same. They really, really care for you._

_We’re so lucky to have them._

_You told Oh-chan, I told Matsujun. Matsujun helped me through the process of working out my feelings, actually. Thank God for ~~anht~~ ~~anthor~~ anthropologists and doctors! (Did you know Matsujun’s mum used to be a professor at a university?!)_

_I’m glad neither of us got angry about telling; frankly, I’m relieved you had someone to talk to. Again, we’re so lucky to have people we love and trust._

_Yeah, I’ll call Sho-chan soon. I’m a bit nervous about Sho-chan, he’s kind of goody-goody and I don’t know how he’ll react to this. I mean, even I freaked out about myself. I think Sho-chan might have to take a few sick days. Haha._

_KAZAMA IS GETTING MARRIED IN JUNE. HE HAS A BABY ALREADY. (I just found out. He doesn’t have the face of someone who’d have a shotgun marriage. Haha. Congratulations, Kazama!)_

_Oh, and sorry about the shit handwriting. I hurt my thumb at the site today. Nothing horrible, just a sprain._

_It’s June next month! You’re turning 19! We’ll be the same age until Christmas Eve! What do you want for your birthday?_

_I can’t wait to hear how you did for TOEFL. The results would probably warrant a phone call, so I’d probably find out by the time I receive your next letter._

_Your sister is lying low for now. Haha. Let’s just wait and see what she’s up to._

_Aiba Masaki_

_PS. Of course there’s an 'us'. I want an us. Can we have an us?_

***

_May 1993_

**Sho**

Sho studied Ohno’s mouth, noting the prominence of his cupid’s bow, the pout of his lower lip. Sho frowned. Was that all he could observe?

“Could you smile a bit for me?” asked Sho, and Ohno obediently grinned.

“Less teeth?” suggested Sho, and Ohno obliged.

“What’s this for again?” asked Ohno, his words coming out flat through his frozen smile.

“My course mates and I are going to a high school to deliver a presentation on creative writing, and my section is 'Describing physical attributes'. Facial features can get really boring to write about, so I’m trying to see how many ways I can come up with to make them interesting.” Sho finished jotting in his notebook. “Okay, you can relax now.”

Ohno’s face went slack, and he massaged his cheeks. “Please tell me I don’t have to do weird things every time you let me crash at your house.”

“Not every time.” Sho looked up from his notes. “What were you doing in Kyoto until you missed curfew, anyway?”

Ohno’s sheepish grin had a certain slyness to it, giving Sho a huge hint.

“You were on a date!” exclaimed Sho, not bothering to hide the accusation in his voice. “I thought you said you weren’t going on dates on school nights?”

“I couldn’t say no.”

“She asked you out?!” Sho howled in envy. “Why do you keep getting asked out by girls?”

Ohno gave Sho a consoling pat on the forearm. “It’s a delicate balance of being both manly and relatable.”

“I’m manly and relatable,” Sho protested half-heartedly.

“Sometimes manliness distracts from being relatable.” Ohno pinched Sho’s bulging bicep, making his point. “Also you’re always super earnest; some girls might find you too serious.”

“Ugh.” Sho rubbed his face vigorously. “I don’t get it. Your major has tons of girls, my major has tons of girls. There should be someone out there! Why are our fates so different?”

“Must be some Kyoto-Nara thing, then,” Ohno deadpanned. “It makes sense: we have so many deer. The stags must be spraying us with pheromones.” Ohno tapped his temple. “Science.”

“You’re nuts.” Sho laughed.

They were interrupted by the phone ringing; Sho immediately knew it was for him, since his mother had gotten into the habit of switching off the ringers of all the other phones before she went to bed.

It wasn’t that rare that someone was calling at eleven at night; ever since Nino moved to America, their calls to each other seemed to get more frequent. Nino was the one who liked to use the phone for life updates, and they were probably all trying to fill his shoes.

“Hello?”

“Sho-chan!” came Aiba’s greeting. “Sorry to call you so late.”

“It’s fine, I’ve called you later.” Sho chuckled. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got a job for you.” Aiba took an audible breath. “I’ve decided not to go to Ikeda this summer, so I’ll need you to give Matsujun and Oh-chan the schedule for next cycle. I’ll draw it up and put it in the envelope with this cycle’s letters, which I’ll be sending out tomorrow. Let me know when you get them, okay?”

Sho felt his stomach drop. Aiba would never skip the summer reunion this casually. “Is everything okay? Did something bad happen at work?”

“Nothing bad happened at work,” replied Aiba, slowly.

“Oh. Okay.” Sho breathed easy again. “I thought it had to do with money and you didn’t have the funds to come.”

“Ah, it’s not that. It’s something else.”

Sho squinted as he picked up on the change in Aiba’s tone. It sounded… shy? A prodding in his side made him turn to Ohno.

“Who is it?” asked Ohno.

“Oh, right. Aiba-chan, Satoshi-kun’s here.”

“Hi,” Ohno chimed, leaning forward to angle his mouth towards the phone.

“Hi, Oh-chan!”

“He says hi,” Sho said to Ohno, who grinned as he spun in Sho’s chair.

“What’s Oh-chan doing there?” asked Aiba.

“He’s crashing because he missed curfew.”

“Again?” Aiba exclaimed. “I thought he said no dates on school nights!”

Sho sniggered and relayed to Ohno what Aiba said, to which Ohno responded solemnly: “Fine. Next time I’ll date a girl who’ll bring me back to her apartment.”

“Or you could just keep curfew,” scolded Sho. “Anyway, Aiba-chan—back to you. Why aren’t you planning to go to Ikeda?”

Ohno’s eyes turned wide as he heard the news. “Aiba-chan’s not coming?”

Sho motioned for Ohno to come closer, turning the volume on the phone way up, and they squeezed the handset between their heads so they could both listen to Aiba.

“You know how my company gives me three days off for Obon?” Aiba started explaining.

“Uh-huh. You came back to Ikeda during that time last year, didn't you?”

“Yup. It's the only bit of free time I have during the summer, and this year I was thinking of taking some additional days off… to go and see Nino.”

“Wow. Okay.” Sho looked at Ohno, who was beaming. Then he had an idea. “Hey, maybe we should all go!”

“Huh?” said Aiba and Ohno at the same time.

“I’d have to borrow money from my parents, but it’s not entirely impossible,” Sho went on, ideas rapidly forming. “We could totally give Nino a surprise—”

“Um, well—I don’t know…” said Aiba haltingly. 

Ohno tapped Sho’s arm and shook his head, making Sho raise his eyebrows.

“Aiba-chan,” Ohno spoke, and his voice seemed extra gentle, “you need to go alone, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Aiba hesitated. “Sho-chan, Nino and I have stuff to - to sort out. I’m going to America to have a talk with him. It’s kind of personal.”

Sho was taken aback. What would warrant a trip like that? He frowned, imagining the worst.

“Shit. Did you guys have some sort of irreparable falling out?” asked Sho, worried. “He hasn’t been talking about you recently, I should’ve known that was strange—”

“Oh, no. Nothing of the sort.” There was a long pause. “Sho-chan, I want to be with Nino. Like, in a romantic relationship. And I’m going over to see if we can somehow work that out.”

Sho felt time grind to a stop. Had he heard right?

“You and Nino?!” Sho found himself asking, aware of the incredulity in his voice.

“Sho-chan, don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad at all, just really… shocked, I guess? This isn’t a prank, right?”

Ohno laughed out loud. “I said the exact same thing to Nino!”

“To _Nino_ \- wait, you know about them?” Sho looked at Ohno, scandalised. “Why does he know?” Sho demanded into the phone.

“Nino tells him a lot of things…” Aiba’s voice was wobbly. “Sho-chan, you really aren’t mad?”

“Why should I be mad?”

“I don’t know; we always felt you were kind of like a manly man, you might not like the whole boys-like-boys thing… Plus you’re so serious and highbrowed?”

Sho lowered his eyelids and scowled. There it was again: his flaws, so obvious for the world to see.

“Masaki,” Sho began, employing Aiba’s first name like how he always did when he wanted to let him know he was being serious, “I tend to have strong opinions about things so I understand your concerns, but I’d like you to know that I don’t see how people falling in love can possibly pose any danger to society, so if I have to pick a side, if there are any at all, I’ll be picking yours.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, making Sho suddenly nervous. He turned to Ohno, who was gaping at him, expression unreadable.

“Damn,” whispered Aiba, “I wish we’d gotten that on tape.”

“Yeah,” said Ohno breathlessly.

Sho smiled, patting Ohno’s thigh. He placed the microphone closer to his mouth. “I hope things work out for you and Nino, Aiba-kun.”

“Me too,” said Aiba.

“Me three,” Ohno piped up.

Aiba sounded a little teary as he said goodbye, and after they hung up Sho looked to Ohno.

“Who would’ve thought,” Sho began, “Aiba-kun and Nino.”

“I know, right?” Ohno shook his head. “I’m really impressed with how you handled the news, though.”

Sho gave a noncommittal wave. “I knew about Aiba-kun a long time ago, it was Nino I wasn’t too sure about. You never know, with that guy. Always messing with us.”

Ohno stared at Sho. “I don’t think any of us ‘knew about’ Aiba-chan, Sho-kun. How did you…”

Sho flushed. “There’s a bit of a story to this.”

“Go on.”

“Well, remember the porno I borrowed from you? The one with the sexy housewives?”

“What the hell has that got to do with Aiba-chan being gay?!”

“Okay, listen—I brought it to Ikeda because Matsujun was dying to watch it, and the first day we were back we all gathered at Aiba-kun’s place, remember? I don’t know how it happened but you, Nino and Aiba-kun were off doing something else, and that’s when I passed Matsujun the tape. Then, right at that moment, we heard Aiba’s mum call his name and open the door, and Matsujun panicked and stuffed it into a bag—except that bag was Aiba-kun’s, and Aiba-kun’s mum was looking for her wallet, which she’d handed to Aiba-kun earlier, and it was in that same bag.”

“Oh god.”

“Yeah. So she found the porno, and she was super calm, but Matsujun and I were freaking out inside, and she went: ‘Is this Masaki’s?’ And Matsujun and I, being the occasional assholes that we are, said: ‘YOU THINK?’”

Ohno burst out laughing.

“But get this—her reaction was _extraordinary_. She said Aiba-kun never looked at porn, and she’d been kind of worried about whether or not he liked girls, so finding the tape was a good thing. Then she looked at the title and made a face like ‘eww, housewives’, before shrugging like ‘meh, whatever’, and then she tucked it back in the bag.”

Ohno looked like he was dying, with the way he was fighting for air and clutching his stomach. “Her life has been a lie because of you and Matsujun.” Ohno wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Yeah, but that’s how Matsujun and I sort of knew.” Sho recalled the conversation with Aiba again. “It sounds serious, doesn’t it? Aiba-kun going all the way to America to talk things over with Nino.”

“Yeah. They must really like each other.”

“I wonder what it’s like,” Sho looked at Ohno and allowed himself a melancholic sigh, “to find the right person to fall in love with.”

“You and me both.”

There was a beat, then Sho spoke.

“How about us?” he joked. “D’you think we could fall in love with each other?”

Ohno cocked his head, studying Sho. He stood up, arranged his lips in a snobbish sort of pout, and started pacing.

“I regret to inform you,” Ohno announced after a few seconds, “that we’re getting a divorce.”

“What?” Sho let out a laugh. “We’re married?”

“Yeah, I thought you were husband material, but you turned out to be such a nag.” Ohno wagged a finger at Sho. “Divorce!”

“I’m not a nag, that’s just mean!”

“Go sleep on the couch!”

“This is _my_ house, idiot!”

Ohno fought to keep a straight face. “As for custody, I get all three; you may see them in the summer when we all go back to Ikeda. That’s the best I can offer,” he said with a lofty air.

Sho erupted into fresh peals of laughter. “The other guys are our children?!”

“My lawyer will deliver the papers in a couple of days,” Ohno promised solemnly, and Sho was hopeless; he had to bury his face in his pillow so he wouldn’t wake his parents and brother up with the laughing.

Later that night, after the lights had been switched off and they were lying in their beds, Sho dangled an arm down the side of his bed and reached out to squeeze Ohno’s shoulder.

“We’ll support them no matter what, right?”

Ohno was half-asleep, but he managed to ask: “Aiba-chan and Nino?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course.”

Sho nodded. “We’re the eldest, Satoshi. We gotta take care of them.”

A laugh bubbled out of Ohno. “Our children, yeah,” he said, words slurring.

“Our children,” said Sho agreeably, and he smiled, patting Ohno’s arm. “Good night, Satoshi-kun.”

Ohno responded with a snore; Sho snuggled further under the covers, closed his eyes, and counted his blessings until he fell asleep.


	5. Part Five

_June 1993_

** Nino **

“You can’t just _announce_ that you’re coming over,” retorted Nino, his indignation building. “You have to discuss stuff like that with me first!”

“I thought it’d be the best course of action,” said Aiba, and Nino stopped to check himself; Aiba sounded hurt, and Nino hadn’t meant to be so harsh.

“I don’t want you to wipe out your savings because of me,” said Nino, gripping the handset. “I’m feeling really bad right now.”

“It’s not _all_ of my savings,” Aiba argued. “Why are you even upset?”

Nino could hear the ‘don’t you want to see me’ echoing soundlessly in the wake of Aiba’s question; it made him sigh and slap his palm across his eyes.

“I don’t know,” said Nino truthfully. “It just makes me stupidly nervous that you’re coming here, okay? It’s making all this _real_ , and god, I don’t know—am I ready for this? We’re barely twenty, Aiba-chan.”

“So I’m being too serious for you,” said Aiba, his voice falling flat.

“Maybe? I don’t know.”

Aiba gave a great, protracted sigh.

“All right, if you don’t want me to go, I won’t go.”

Nino felt a pang of regret. “I didn’t mean that; I didn’t say I don’t want you to come.”

There was silence.

If it had been anybody else, Nino might have been treated to an earful of grievances claiming him mercurial and selfish and whatever else that was defective in his personality, but from Aiba there were none. They’d had enough arguments to know how the other handled conflict, and Nino trusted Aiba enough to lob his idiocy over to Aiba’s side of the field, leaving him to figure out the next play.

“Nino, we’re _almost_ twenty. And next year, we’d be _already_ twenty. Maybe you should think of it like that. We’re grownups now.” Aiba’s voice was kind, assuring. “I’m not asking for your freaking hand in marriage, Nino.”

This made Nino laugh; it bolstered Aiba’s confidence, obviously, because he ploughed on.

“It’s a big deal that I’m going to look you up if you consider the distance and the cost, but the meaning behind it isn’t that impressive. I just want to _be_ with you, and it’s important to me that I make this trip because you left on such a shitty note, and the thought that I have to wait until next summer to fix that just fills me with so much dread.”

So much honesty, so much care. Nino was extremely moved.

He cleared his throat, composing himself.

“Fine. What dates are you looking at?”

***

_August 1993_

** Aiba **

Chiba was the prefecture just beside Tokyo, but Aiba's parents lived in an area called Tako, 20 minutes away from Narita Airport and an eternity from everywhere else. Still, it was home, and he loved being back.

“This is for Kazu-kun,” said his mother, handing him a vacuum-packed bag of rice. She pointed to more of the same bags lying on the counter. “When you come back, take those back with you to Tokyo to give to his family. There’s _sake_ too. They’re always taking care of you, I feel bad that this is all I can give them.”

Aiba’s maternal family descended from a long line of rice farmers—Tako was famous for rice—and his grandfather had taken the work one step further into manufacturing, making all sorts of rice products. His mother had a share of the company as well, and his father had been an employee, which was how they’d met; Aiba had grown up thinking he’d help out in the family business, but his interests had led him down a different career path. His brother Yusuke, on the other hand, seemed quite keen on joining his relatives in expanding the business; Aiba was glad Yusuke stepped up, and he could pursue his own electrician dreams.

“Mum, I don’t know if this would fit,” grumbled Aiba as he carried the rice into the living room.

“You’re taking the suitcase, aren’t you? It’s huge, you could just pack it in there…” Aiba’s mother trailed off as she got to Aiba’s packing area; he’d set it up in the living room because there was a lot of stuff, and it was too much of a hassle to carry all of it up to his room.

“Are you _moving_ there?” Aiba’s mother exclaimed.

“There’s dried _udon_ from Matsujun’s dad,” Aiba pointed to a paper bag, “and that box has sweets and manga, I think, from Oh-chan and Sho-chan; and that big box is from Nino’s parents. I don’t know what’s in it, but it’s super heavy.”

Aiba’s mother laughed and shook her head. “I shouldn’t be shocked; if you were the one over there, this would happen too.”

Aiba’s mother helped him pack; his flight was leaving in the morning and his parents were giving him a lift to the airport on their way to work. 

“It’s your first overseas trip alone; do you think you’d be okay?” said Aiba’s mother, looking anxious as she rolled up one of Aiba’s t-shirts.

“I’ll be with Nino. He’ll take care of me.” Saying this in front of his mother made Aiba blush; he hoped she wouldn’t pick up on the meaning behind it.

Aiba’s mother smiled. “When I first met him I wasn’t sure how I felt about him—you know, barbed insults and all—but after getting to know him I think he’s not that catty after all. I quite like him, and I think his parents are lovely.”

This was the first time Aiba was hearing his mother talk about Nino. His heart raced as he wondered if she’d ever like Nino enough to not get mad, if they told her they wanted to be together.

But maybe that was looking too far into the future.

“I’m glad you think so,” said Aiba, not looking at his mother, focusing on his task of fitting the manga into the suitcase, “because I quite like Nino too.”

Aiba knew this wasn’t an actual confession; it’d sounded like he was just repeating his mother’s words, but it still felt good to say it out loud in front of her.

Perhaps he'd be braver someday.

***

** Nino **

The main reason why Nino picked Michigan for school was because he’d been born there. His father had proposed to his mother the moment he got notified of his transfer to the Detroit branch of his company; they’d moved to the U.S. as newlyweds, and returned to Tokyo when Nino turned three. They still had several connections in Michigan, and had recommended that Nino go to college there because there were aunties and uncles he could rely on if he encountered any difficulties.

Thus, after Nino finished up at the language school the previous month and moved out of its expensive dormitory, he started occupying a room at the Ikutas, the family friends who lived in Grand Rapids. It wasn’t too far from the college he’d been accepted to, and the Ikutas had a boy a couple of years his junior: Toma, although people also called him Thomas (he had a real English name!), and all its variations.

Nino liked the Ikutas, and Toma was friendly, but living with them meant he was open to scrutiny when it came to things like communicating with Aiba, or the copious amount of letters he sent to the others. He didn’t use the phone as much for the month-and-a-half he was with the family, it would’ve made him seem too entitled; and he knew for sure that when Aiba came, they were expected to behave one hundred per cent platonic should the Ikutas allow him to bunk in with Nino—which they did, with great enthusiasm, being extremely hospitable people and extremely good friends with Nino’s parents, who had called in the favour when they heard Aiba was going to pay Nino a visit.

This wasn’t good news for Nino.

Aiba had booked an inn through a travel agent, and Nino knew the room had only one bed. Aiba had sounded too practised when he told Nino that over the phone; Nino guessed he’d rehearsed the line several times, ironing out all the embarrassment before he called Nino.

There was no way Nino was going to let the Ikutas’ kindness become his chastity belt.

Nino knocked on the door of Toma’s room two evenings before Aiba was due to arrive, holding his prized baseball behind his back and a flyer he’d picked up at a branch of his language school earlier that day.

“Toma-kun?”

“Come in,” said the voice from within.

Nino entered the room and shut the door behind him. Toma was at his desk, arranging his collection of Japanese baseball cards. Perfect.

Nino cleared his throat and waved the flyer under Toma’s nose. “I was wondering if you’d help me lie to your parents about me going to English camp with my friend.”

Toma scanned the flyer, his apprehension evident. “It’s a week long, Ninomiya-kun. That’s a pretty long time for me to keep up your cover…”

Nino pulled out the ball. Toma gaped as his eyes fell on the signature.

“Oh my god— _Saito Masaki_ ,” whispered Toma in reverence, taking the ball into his hands gingerly. Nino let him have it.

“You didn’t just sign this yourself, did you?” asked Toma suddenly.

“Turn it upside down,” said Nino, grinning. Toma was such a geek about this; he’d know it was the real thing.

“Oh my god,” said Toma in English, “it’s his autograph. Where did you—”

“Nope, no questions,” said Nino firmly, taking the ball back, making Toma whimper forlornly. “No questions about anything. I’m going to tell your parents I’ve decided my friend’s trip should be an educational experience for him, you’re going to advocate for me, and I’ll be gone a week starting Monday.”

Toma’s eyes hadn’t left the ball.

“Okay,” Toma breathed, “you’re going to camp.”

Nino broke into a huge, cheek-aching grin as he dropped the ball into Toma's waiting hand.

***

** Aiba **

Searching the crowd for Nino’s face turned out to be an easy task; Nino’s foreignness stood out, even in a place like the airport, and Aiba felt the joy ripple through his veins as their eyes met. He made his way towards Nino, who grinned wider as Aiba approached.

“Look who ran away from home,” was the first thing Nino said, looking amusedly at the boxes Aiba was hauling along with his suitcase.

“I couldn’t fit everything into the suitcase; you have all of Japan’s specialties in here, courtesy of your parents, my parents, Jun’s dad, and Team Kansai Ojisan. I was practically scraping the bottom of the weight limit,” said Aiba, nodding at the boxes before setting his things down and stepping up to Nino, closing the distance between them.

“Hang on—did you get taller?” exclaimed Nino, looking up at Aiba.

“Well, I noticed all my pants got shorter?” Aiba put out a foot and showed Nino the cuff of his jeans.

“So you did grow taller,” said Nino, sounding betrayed. His line of vision then flicked to Aiba's hand. “Let me see your thumb.”

“My thumb?”

“You sprained it a while ago, didn’t you? Let me see.”

Aiba gave his hand to Nino, and Nino held it in both of his, inspecting Aiba’s thumb, flipping his hand palm-side up then back, again and again. He seemed antsy, and suddenly Aiba realised Nino wasn’t actually interested in checking out his thumb. 

Aiba laughed and tugged on Nino’s hand, pulling him into a hug, enjoying the way his skin tingled at the contact, the way Nino immediately latched onto him and pressed his face into his shoulder, inhaling deeply.

“Idiot,” whispered Nino, “took you long enough.”

An hour later they were locked in the same embrace, except in the privacy of their room at the inn.

“I’m sorry, Nino,” said Aiba, stroking the curve that linked Nino’s neck to his shoulders, indulging in its velvet softness; Nino had very smooth skin.

“What are you apologising for this time?” said Nino, struggling to keep exasperation out of his voice.

“For hurting you.” Aiba drew back and framed Nino’s face with his hands. “You were so sad that day, and I was totally the cause of that.”

“I agree, you’re an idiot,” said Nino softly, before he closed his mouth over Aiba’s.

Nino tasted like spearmint and grapes, obviously prepared for the kiss; Aiba gently pushed Nino away, and there was a fleeting panic across Nino’s features as Aiba did this.

“Don’t get me wrong, I really want to kiss you, but I don’t think I’ve brushed my teeth since… yesterday.” Aiba’s eyes bugged. He turned to look for the bathroom. “Just give me one minute—no, wait, maybe three, I need to shower; or five, if you could let me shave—”

He was silenced by Nino’s lips on his, and when he felt Nino’s hand snake up his shirt to rest on his stomach, he stopped protesting. It was nice, Aiba thought, to have someone who didn’t mind kissing you even when you weren’t super clean.

“While you’re here, we’re going to do all the unspeakable sex things, right?” Nino murmured later, sounding hopeful.

Aiba pressed his mouth against Nino's throat. “I’m not sure I know how, but I have every intention to try.”

Aiba enjoyed the way Nino’s laugh vibrated against his lips; Nino drew back to look at him, then started coaxing him towards the bathroom with his hips.

Aiba had always thought he’d be nervous about this; but now that they were actually here, on the verge of having sex for the first time (and not just with each other, it was _the first time_ ), he found himself completely at ease, and more excited than anxious. He told Nino this, and was rewarded with a smile so brilliant he thought he had to shield his eyes.

They’d seen each other naked before, but never in this context; Nino sat atop the vanity and pulled Aiba towards him so he could wrap his legs around his waist as they kissed, and with every break they took for air, Nino removed more and more of Aiba’s clothes. As Aiba took in the way Nino’s eyes feasted on his body, his mouth watered; and when he couldn’t stand Nino touching him all over anymore he asked if he could help take the rest of Nino’s clothes off, but Nino kept his seat on the vanity, protectively covered the button on his shorts, and said no.

Aiba responded by putting his shirt back on, jutting his lips out at Nino defiantly as he crouched close to the floor and reached for his socks in as threatening a manner as he could.

Nino threw his head back and laughed, then jumped off the vanity and kissed Aiba until they ran out of breath; and finally they were both naked.

They made love in the shower, wet skin on skin, gasping as they occupied their hands, never taking their eyes off each other's faces. There was a natural understanding of what they were ready for and what they had yet to learn; this part of their chemistry matched perfectly.

Aiba held on for as long as he could so they could climax together—right after, as they watched the water holding their come swirl down the drain, Nino pointed and said:

“Look, our virginities just drowned.”

This struck Aiba as hilarious, and he laughed until he doubled over and had to sit on the edge of the bathtub to learn how to breathe again; Nino squatted on the floor, angling his forearms on the top of Aiba’s thighs to peer into his face, wickedly making funny faces to set him off every time his laughter died down.

They remained naked after they towelled off, kissing as they crossed the room, still greedy for each other. As he clambered onto it, Aiba marvelled at how large, soft and _noisy_ the bed was, and he settled himself against the headboard to allow Nino into his lap.

“I thought we were supposed to talk about stuff,” teased Nino, tracing the birthmark on Aiba’s shoulder with his kiss-bruised lips.

“Now?” Aiba gave Nino a sceptical look. “I mean, sure, if you want to—”

Nino grinded down on him, shutting him up.

The later part of that hour saw the bed creaking enthusiastically, Nino moaning into a pillow, and Aiba’s spit-lubricated fingers working diligently to keep Nino moaning. At one point Nino started clawing at Aiba, and he stopped to check if he was hurting him.

“No,” Nino panted, reaching out to wipe Aiba’s sweat-drenched brow, “but I can't wait to do this to you.”

Soon he got his turn, and between the blinding trances of pleasure Aiba found himself wondering how Nino’s cute, pudgy fingers had such talent for manoeuvre.

There was a lot to do, but they also had to eat (and for Aiba, to sleep so he could overcome the jet lag) and to go shopping for everything they figured out they would need—spit was just not cutting it, no matter that they figured where it actually had to come from for it to be the right consistency—and it was on the way to the eatery down the street that Aiba stopped Nino and said:

“It’s you, Nino.”

Nino’s face clouded over in bewilderment. “And what exactly are you blaming me for?”

Aiba laughed. “I’m not blaming you for anything. I’ve just never said it, remember?”

Nino was still not cottoning on.

They were in public, and it wasn't like the airport where hugging was taking place everywhere, so Aiba looked around, making sure there weren’t too many people watching, before he slipped his hand into Nino’s.

“I only like one boy.” Aiba dipped his head to look straight into Nino’s eyes, stained umber in the streetlights, expectant and warm. “Just this one.”

Nino immediately ducked, hiding his face as he pulled his hand out of Aiba’s to punch Aiba in the shoulder, but his ears were a telltale red. Aiba laughed and took several strides forward, leaving Nino behind, but Nino caught up and wordlessly put his hand back in Aiba’s.

Aiba held on tight, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

***

** Nino **

“We could never tell our grandparents that we’re together, it’ll be too strange,” said Nino, shaking his head as he chewed on his pasta. Aiba was halfway into his trip, and they were doing the very adult thing of establishing their relationship over food.

“Them dating makes you my cousin or something,” Nino went on, “and I really don’t want us to be related.”

Aiba laughed. “We won’t ever be related, not by blood. It’ll be fine, I think.”

Nino considered Aiba’s words. “So you’re okay with telling your grandma about us?”

Aiba’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course not.”

And just like that, the mood turned uncomfortable. It wasn’t that Nino was offended; it was just the stark reality being presented to them in words so concrete and blunt.

“Would you ever tell your family?” asked Aiba.

“Maybe after I’m dead?” joked Nino, then he realised Aiba wasn’t laughing.

“I sorta feel the same way,” confessed Aiba, “I don’t want to tell them until the day I die. I mean, I want to, but I don’t think I can.”

Nino knew they were just using a figure of speech, but it was pretty dark all the same.

“I’m not even sure I’d be able to love the same person until the day I die,” Nino hastily changed the subject, then realised belatedly that this was a whole new can of worms.

Aiba was looking at him curiously. “Are you trying to tell me you’re not sure about us?”

“No!” Nino said this a little louder than he’d intended to, but the cafe wasn’t that quiet; he got away with it.

“I’m just saying that I’m not - I’m not _confident_ that I can love you my whole life,” Nino fought to keep his gaze on Aiba as his face burned; it was the first time he was using the actual word for ‘love’, “but I know I really, really want to.”

Aiba’s eyes shifted to his plate; he pinched his lips between his teeth and took a deep breath. It was several seconds later before he spoke again.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m crying into my pasta.”

Nino laughed, tearing up himself. He grabbed some napkins and handed them to Aiba before deciding to take Aiba’s hand in his own, the napkins clutched awkwardly between their fingers.

“Please take care of me from now on,” said Nino, and for good measure, he gave a slight bow.

Aiba’s face crumpled as he bowed back, and he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his free hand, blurting something unintelligible; he was probably saying the same thing back to Nino, but the words were so garbled that Nino had to laugh.

It didn’t matter if their families knew or not; they were together, and in this together, for as long as love would accommodate them.


	6. Epilogue: Cycle 5

_Sep 13, 1993_  
4:11 PM  
At my grandparents’

_Dear Aiba-chan_

_So much happened this summer, I don’t know where to begin, hmm._

_Oh, but first—I declare the official start of Cycle 5, STARTED! It’s the first time I’m starting the game. I’ll finally have a set of letters to call my own T_T_

_Okay. I’ll just tell you what happened in Ikeda first, because that’s the most interesting._

_SHO-CHAN WENT OUT WITH NINO’S SISTER. SHE ASKED HIM OUT._

_And it was so weird at first, we were like, IT’S NINO’S SISTER!!! Hahaha. But then Matsujun pointed out how compatible they were—they’re both kind of awkward, hahaha—and so we decided to help them out because there are zero date spots in Ikeda, right?? Anyway, long story short, Matsujun and I somehow managed to figure out how to connect some Christmas lights to a battery (we wished SO. HARD. that you were around then!) and we sort of made a romantic date spot. We had to burn some mosquito coils so there was a smell, but oh well, couldn’t be helped!_

_I wanted to spy on them but Matsujun dragged me off, so I’ll leave the rest of the story to Sho-chan~ He doesn’t want to tell me anything! I think they might be in a relationship!_

_(ADULTERY!!! Team Kansai inside joke, sorry.)_

_Another thing that happened this summer was, after coming back from Ikeda I spent a few days in school for some seminar thing, and I got some time to hang out with Okada (my roommate) and found out we dated the same girl! (Not at the same time, haha.) I was quite surprised, I never thought we’d like the same type. But we sort of bonded over that. We’re both glad we didn’t end up seriously dating her, that’d have been awkward._

_I guess when you put aside your differences and really get to know a person, first impressions might not count for that much after all!_

_I’m going for teaching practicums really soon. It’s junior high, I'm a bit nervous. It’s so strange to think of myself as a teacher to junior high kids; Nino and Matsujun were in junior high when we first met. I can’t imagine me being their teacher?_

_We missed you in Ikeda this year~ Can’t wait for Nino to be back next summer so we can all get together again. We miss you, Nino!_

_Satoshi_

***

_Oct 23, 1993_  
9:17 PM  
At home

_Sho-chan~ What is this I hear about you and Nino’s sister?_

_So that was why she kept asking me about plans for Ikeda! She wanted to know when you’d be there! I thought she was interested in my life—she’s actually interested in YOURS. I’m so hurt!!!_

_Not to project too far into the future, but technically you and I could be family one day, if laws change and love doesn’t. HAHA._

_(No pressure, Nino. No pressure.)_

_I don’t know what else to tell you that I haven’t already… Michigan was fun, being with Nino was great, work is interesting, I got to carry a baby (my kouhai Kazama’s)… Babies smell really good, until they poop._

_What else? I guess I just want you to know that every day I wake up happy, and I wish the same for you._

_I’ll call you soon._

_Aiba Masaki_

***

_Nov 4, 1993_  
10:07 AM  
Free period, library

_To Nino._

_It’s me._

_School’s in session for you—I hope you’re getting used to the pace of things. I know how hard you work when you’re passionate about something, so please know that we’re all here for you! In fact, Satoshi-kun, Matsujun and I were talking about staggering our letters to you so you can get one every week. I’ll work something out with the rest._

_And regarding the thing with your sister. I feel the need to address everyone, hang on—_

_GUYS. EVERYTHING IS PRIVATE. EVEN IF YOU SEE A BLACK AND WHITE PHOTO OF ME OUTSIDE ERINA’S APARTMENT IN A TABLOID, IT DOESN’T MEAN IT’S TRUE. EVEN IF IT IS. THAT’S ALL I HAVE TO SAY._

_Anyway, Nino—I was quite inspired by certain life events, and off the top of my head I came up with the following list, and I later realised it might apply to any of us who might wish to pursue romantic relationships in the future. Since you are in one yourself, I thought you might find it useful. There is a copy for everybody._

__

__

_ROUGH GUIDELINES FOR POTENTIALLY SUCCESSFUL RELATIONSHIPS, by Sakurai Sho_

_If it’s exclusive, say it’s exclusive. If it’s not, set boundaries. Is it okay to date other people? Is there an SOP? (Might be a good idea to draw up an SOP.)_

_Communication needs to be clear, even if it’s not concise. Written forms are accepted._

_It costs money to be in a relationship; don’t be stingy, and instead be as generous as you can afford. Always WANT to pay for things, but don’t be afraid to say that you can’t. (If you both can’t afford it, well. Consensual sex doesn’t cost anything?)_

_Phone bills can add up. It’s one of those things that might creep up on you, and you mourn the hole in your pocket when it’s time to pay. Or they might also smack you in the face when your parents wave receipts at you while yelling about docking your allowance and demanding the month’s salary you received from your part-time job. (I would assume this is worse if you are making long-distance calls. My condolences.)_

_Don’t neglect your friends even if you find a partner. They are just as important, just in a different way._

_Don’t distance yourself if your friend finds a partner. Instead of becoming a stranger, you should be friends with their partner too. Unless you’re friends with said partner already, or in rarer circumstances, are their relative. (Specifically, sibling.)_

_**x** _

_That’s all I have. I’ll call you soon, your sister mentioned something about having a soon-expiring calling card she used to phone you just that once._

_From Sakurai Sho._

_PS. Congratulations on passing the audition, Matsujun!_

_PPS. It's not adultery if we're already divorced, Satoshi._

***

_Dec 15, 1993_  
8:01 AM  
Common room, residence hall

_Hey Junpon!_

_Thanks for calling; I’m still over the moon that your colleagues liked the film we made. I love how one thing we produce gets added to both our portfolios. Thanks for choosing acting as your career, seriously. I can’t wait to see that drama you’re gonna be in; I asked my parents to tape it. (I think all our parents are taping it?)_

_I’m really busy now, hardly have time for music and games, which I miss like hell._

_I’ve just finished reading Sho-chan’s ‘guidelines’ thing, and it’s cracking me up so hard. Still, there's a lot of truth in there! Anyway, if anyone’s interested to know (looking at you, Sho-chan), Aiba-chan and I have a rule about calling, because it’s so expensive for us._

_We talk twice every day, but it’s timed. First thirty seconds, I talk. The next thirty seconds, he talks. (The order switches in the next conversation we have.) ‘Uhms’ and ‘ahs’ are discouraged (it helps to have a notepad with you), and every pause you take that’s longer than one second costs you time on the next call, which should be shortened accordingly. The second and final minute is when we can just talk however we want, but no stupid ‘I love you/No I love you more/Bullshit I love you most’ crap, that’s just a waste of time. ‘I love you’-s are to be short, and exchanged with greatest sincerity, or not exchanged at all._

_That’s our system. I love how it’s like a game._

_I’m sending some stuff over to you for Christmas; mostly candy, I know your siblings have a sweet tooth._

_Hear from you soon. If you could meet up with Aiba-kun around his birthday, I’ll call. It won’t be timed, I promise._

_Ninomiya Kazunari_

***

_Jan 02, 1994_  
3:41 PM  
Somewhere in Nagano

_Dear Ohno-san_

_Happy New Year!_

_I’m writing to you in my dad’s car. We’re travelling, so pardon the handwriting._

_We’re on a family road trip since it’s the new year holidays and we all have some time off; Dad wants to take me somewhere to watch the sunrise tomorrow, he’s such a romanticist. He says this year I’m coming of age, so we should do these things to commemorate the occasion._

_I think about the past year, and I realise I’m really grateful. I have amazing people in my life—my family, my friends, you guys. You guys, especially—we chose to be a group, you know? We didn’t go to the same school or live on the same street. We just happened, and everything that we have now, with each other—it’s like a dream, sometimes._

_Sorry, I got a bit emotional there. Might be an actor thing; we tend to process everything we perceive into a feeling._

_I’m glad you’re so sure about pursuing a career in teaching. You have so much patience with people. Don’t worry about being too quiet; I actually think you can be quite chatty if the chemistry’s right. Has it occurred to you to speak the way you write? I always read your letters in your voice, in my head of course, and it’s always bright and upbeat. Sometimes I imagine you doing a show on radio—something simple, like that five-minute segment they have in the morning for FM Yokohama. You’d be excellent at it._

_I’ve got to go, writing in a moving car is quite ridiculous. Oh, and catch me on TV this Wednesday. I’m appearing in a commercial for tissues. Haha._

_Nino will be back in the summer, right?  
Nino: we really liked the candy, and Ruka was wondering if you could bring more of those bubble gum tape things back? He loves those. He says he'll buy you twenty hamburger steaks when he sees you in August._

_Happy forwarding, you guys! See you in the summer._

_Peace,  
Jun_


End file.
